User blog:Squibstress/Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart - Chapter 3
Title: Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart Author: Squibstress Rating: MA Genre: Drama Warning/s: Explicit sexual situations; non-con; character death Published: 05/06/2017 Disclaimer: All characters, settings and other elements from the Harry Potter franchise belong to J. K. Rowling. Chapter Three Aftermath “At least let me give you a sleeping potion,” pleaded Poppy. Minerva sat at the edge of a cot in the infirmary. “Fine,” she whispered. She stuck the phial Madam Pomfrey handed her in the pocket of the robes her friend had conjured for her. These sleeves are too short for me, Minerva thought. Pomona Sprout appeared with a cup of tea. “Drink this, love, it’ll help,” she said, secure in her belief that a hot cuppa was the balm for all hurts. Maybe she was right. Minerva took it without looking at either of her two friends, who exchanged anxious glances. They were silent while she sipped the steaming tea. Poppy broke the silence. “Minerva, I should examine you for injuries,” she said quietly. “I’m fine,” Minerva said, her voice stronger. “My wrists are sore, but I have healing balm back in my quarters.” “That’s good,” Poppy replied gently, “but I need to make sure you have no internal injuries.” Minerva looked at her friend for the first time since the rape. “I’m fine,” she said more forcefully than she intended. “Minerva—” began Pomona, then stopped when she saw her friend’s chest begin to heave. She shot a panicked look at the mediwitch, who quickly conjured a paper bag. “Here, breathe into this … that’s it … nice and easy,” Poppy said, holding the bag over Minerva’s nose and mouth. Gradually Minerva’s breathing slowed, and her heart rate returned to normal. The three women sat in silence for a few moments. Minerva summoned her strength and spoke. “I don’t believe I am injured, Poppy,” she said quietly. “I would just like to return to my quarters and rest. If I notice anything … amiss, I promise I’ll let you know right away.” She silently pleaded with her friend to let her escape the ordeal of an internal exam. All she wanted was to take a shower. Poppy looked at her. Feelings of friendship grappled with her professional judgment. “All right, Minerva. But I don’t want you to be alone tonight. Maybe Pomona could stay with you?” “Pomona’s place is with her Hufflepuffs,” replied Minerva. “They may need her now.” Her heart lurched as she realised that her Gryffindors were alone. She knew she couldn’t face them. She had no comfort to offer. Not tonight. Her eyes filled with tears that she willed not to fall. “Pomona, would you see to my students? Just for tonight? I don’t think I’m strong enough for that just now,” she said, her voice threatening to break. “Of course, Minerva.” “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking of the students,” said Madam Pomfrey. “I should be here in case anyone needs me. Minerva, I’m afraid I have to insist you stay in the infirmary tonight.” “Poppy, I really need the comfort of my own quarters. I’ll be fine on my own, really,” insisted Minerva. “Would you allow Rolanda to stay with you? As a compromise?” Poppy pleaded. Madam Hooch was hardly the first person you’d turn to for a shoulder to cry on, thought the mediwitch. But she was reliable and fiercely loyal to Minerva, who loved Quidditch almost as much as the flying instructor did. “All right,” breathed Minerva. “Good. Pomona, could you go over to Rolanda’s and ask her?” “Of course,” said the Herbology teacher. As she got up, she took Minerva’s hand and kissed the back of it. “We’ll get through this,” she said, her voice quavering. “And kill the bastards,” she added fiercely as she left. She waited until she was out of the room to let her tears fall. They wouldn’t help Minerva, who had yet to shed her own. ~oOo~ Snape closed and warded the door to the Potions classroom. He was fairly certain Slughorn wouldn’t come down there that evening—working after hours was not a habit of Horace’s—but he wanted to ensure he would not be discovered. Besides, he thought, every student and staff member (save for a few Slytherins) would welcome a chance to catch the Headmaster alone and unawares. Even more now, he thought bitterly. He tried desperately not to think of what he had just done to a woman who, while she had never exactly been a friend, was someone he greatly admired, and who had never shown him anything but kindness. Until he had killed Dumbledore, that is. His thoughts raced as he searched the Potions storeroom—much less orderly than when he was in residence here, he noted—for the correct container. First murder, now rape. What more will you ask of me? he silently railed at the god he no longer believed in. Enough. He had no time for self-pity. When had he ever? His eye seized on a label, and he took the bottle from the shelf. He uncorked it and brought it to his lips, then paused. Maybe I should just let things take their natural course, he thought. I deserve it. As if in answer, his swollen member throbbed painfully. He knew the effects of allowing the Engorgio Charm to go unchecked; he had seen the Dark Lord use it as a form of torture often enough—it was what had given him the idea. Without a Deflating Draught, the blood that filled the spongy tissue of his penis would eventually clot, cutting off circulation to the organ, which would begin to die after a few hours. Within several days, gangrene would set in, then septicaemia, and ultimately, death. It was a supremely ugly way to die. Snape shuddered and downed the potion. He had taken a great risk in using the charm; if he had not found the right potion to counteract it, he could not have concocted one fast enough to save function in his penis (and he wondered idly why he even cared). Engorgio was not intended for use on human tissue, but there was no way he could have got an erection any other way under the circumstances. Failure on that score would very likely have resulted in disaster for him and worse for Minerva. Worse than what I did to her? he asked himself. A prickling sensation told him that the Deflating Draught was working and that normal blood flow was being restored to his member. He hoped that the numbing and lubricating charms he had quickly and silently performed on Minerva had worked and that she would suffer no ill effects as they wore off, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He stood silently for a few moments, willing himself not to think of her. Then he removed the wards he had placed on the classroom and walked quickly away from the dungeons and his thoughts. ← Back to Chapter 2 On to Chapter 4→ Category:Chapters of Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart